I am a girl, Love, Wonderboy

Like First Time

Just like the first times we had sex, he said.

It did feel different. Or should I say – it felt like it used to?

Maybe it was because I’d had two drinks before it. (The vacation has started – wohoo! My first paid vacation in years.) Maybe it was because I felt so unintimidated and free. My bladder was full but somehow I didn’t feel the need to go before having sex. Very unusual. I was happy and relaxed, and somehow, I wasn’t at all concerned about getting off. I was just enjoying it.

When I came close, I fantasized about a grown man getting off with a teenager quickly and secretly in an Airport Cafe and I came. Boy, that was good. He was so happy. I have a tendency to stop myself from fantasizing about something else during sex. It used to be the only way I could get off, when I hit the rough times, and he used to feel completely shut off. Later he realized that if I could come by any means, he would be happier too, so he stopped being hurt about it. And now it bloomed!

It seemed like he was about to come throughout the whole act. He was slowing it down, taking his cock out, teasing me, breathing heavily on me, purring sounds I didn’t know I could get out of him. And that made me so hot. So hot in fact that when he came I came the second time. It was so good.

He did of course say dirty things to me, hold me “against my will” and point it out to me, slap my butt and choke me, but it all felt really undramatic, loving, caring, slow. If I had to call something making love – this would be it. Tipsy bladder-full relaxed sex.

You were so relaxed and in the moment. It felt so good. You didn’t grip me as hard as usually. (Here he is using a synechdoce to speak of my cunt without saying it out loud. Pretty classy, huh?)

That’s probably because I’m all drunk, I giggled. I was so happy. I had put our old place in shape, because we have to stay here this christmas – the new place is not ready yet. There were lit candles, lights on the window, paper starts and postcards on a string. When he came home he just stood there in the doorway for minutes and said wow repeatedly. That’s how much I got done in an afternoon.

It’s good to not have to wallow all the time, to be in one crisis after another and firgure it out. Now we can just fuck, eat, drink and play!

Yeah. Will you be sending my therapist a christmas present? “Thanks for the awesome sex.”

We laughed, cuddled and kissed some more.

Happy holidays everyone! Light some candles, drink some wine, relax and enjoy. That’s what christmas is for. To pass the darkest and coldest time of the year. It helps to be with someone you love.


2 thoughts on “Like First Time

  1. mousie762 says:

    Synecdoche is a pretty classy word, I had to look it up which doesn’t happen a lot.

    If I had to call something making love
    That’s something I’m always trying to say in my stories; kink can be making love too, and can express new things.

  2. That makes me smile. Although he doesn’t know it’s a synecdoche… and I wouldn’t expect anyone who hasn’t studies language or literature or both to understand.

    Kinky sex is as much making love as vanilla sex. I feel like it is most of the time, I just don’t always say it out loud. What else would it be? It makes me happy, it makes him happy, it makes us feel loved and content in each other. There’s really no difference – except the prevalent picture of “making love”. And that we can change.

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